


Behind Locked Doors

by BrokenHazelEyes



Series: OT4- Greg/Ed/Sam/Spike [30]
Category: Flashpoint
Genre: Author Should Not Be Allowed To Write, Masturbation, Other, PWP, Sex Toys, Smut, Spike's a tease, Why am I still allowed to write?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:31:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4559529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenHazelEyes/pseuds/BrokenHazelEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Spike, what the hell are you doing in there?” <br/>“Having fun,” Spike groaned, arching his back, closing his eyes and rumpling the sheets even more with his free hand and squirming, “without you.” <br/>“You’d have more fun,” The door’s handle jingled as Sam spoke, “If you’d come and unlock this door.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Locked Doors

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt comes from Siennavie; hope you enjoy. ;)
> 
> A/N: I don't own Flashpoint, nor the characters, nor do I make a profit from my writing. However, it's still my writing so please don't repost anywhere. Thanks!

A small brown box tucked under his arm, Spike unlocked the door to Greg’s apartment before slipping inside—mischief turning the corners of his lips up, but his shyness tinging his cheeks pink. He was glad the others weren’t home yet; they would have caught on immediately to the heat in his gaze and flush of his skin.

Bypassing the rest of the house, the bomb tech padded into the bedroom and shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it. Ed and Sam weren’t the only ones who knew how to wind people up; they weren’t the only ones with tricks up their sleeves.

Spike clambered into the center of the large bed, peeling his shirt off and shucking his other garments before throwing them onto the floor, with the box. The tape peeled easy under his fingertips, and once that was off Spike pulled out the package from within and bit at his lip.

The sleek silver vibrator was light in his hands, nothing fancy but still intimidating, and with an experimental turn of the knob at the top the item whirred to life—not loud, but not silent either. Just powerful enough to be heard from outside the bedroom door.

Ed, Greg and Sam were due to be home any minute, so Spike tossed the empty box onto the floor and fished through one of the nightstand drawers for the bottle of lube. The brunette stretched himself quickly, not taking the time to rub the sensitive spots within him, then clicked the lid back on and grabbed for his new toy.

This was either going to end really, _really_ good or extremely awkward.

With a buzz, the toy turned on and shook in his grasp—and his cock, already heavy between his legs, only hardened in anticipation of the vibrations across his skin.

With an experimental press against his inner thigh, Spike trailed the vibrator down towards his knee and then back up towards the curve of his pelvis while getting used to the strong sensations jumpstarting his nerves. Lying flat on his back, the brunette let his legs fall open while his free hand fisted in the bedsheets. Drawing the toy teasingly closer to his groin, Spike’s breath escaped with a gasp as his hips rocked forward—seeking the feeling.

“Spike?” The bomb tech heard Greg call and three sets of footsteps entered the house as the bomb tech tried to hide back a giggle and then a gasp as he pressed the silver toy to the base of his pulsating organ. There was a muffled question of “where is he?” coming from, what Spike assumed, the living room. Then the footsteps drew closer to the bedroom, and Spike slid the vibrator down between his legs until it rested on the rim of his hole—lightly pushing forward, just testing the waters.

Then he slid it in, relishing as the vibrations carved their way through his entire body, and couldn’t hold back the sharp, shaky moan that blew past his lips. It wasn’t that wide, but the power of its shaking made up for that in spades.

“Spike?” This time Ed called his name, but the bomb tech was drunk on arousal as he pumped the device in and out—clenching and unclenching around it, keening when the buzzing tip brushed his prostate. “Spike, what the hell are you doing in there?”

“Having fun,” Spike groaned, arching his back, closing his eyes and rumpling the sheets even more with his free hand and squirming, “without you.”

“You’d have more fun,” The door’s handle jingled as Sam spoke, “If you’d come and _unlock this door_.”

“Nah,” The bomb tech laughed, then swore airily as the vibrator hit the sensitive bundle of nerves within him and made his muscles tighten up and spasm, “I’m having _plenty_ ,” another pant and rocky moan, “of fun.”

The toy, buried to the hilt inside him, slid out just as easy as it’d gone in—and Spike pressed it to his aching length, swearing loudly at the overwhelming sensitivity and bucked his hips with short, punctuated gasps. His toes curled and his head twisted to one side—but he pulled the vibrator away before he could lose it, gasping hard and twitchy as his nerves overloaded with the new feelings.

“Spike!” Ed snapped, “Open the door!”

Said bomb tech slipped the toy back inside himself, rocking his hips slowly to meet the pace he was setting, and made a show, in answer, of not holding back any of the noises he was making—too blissed out to feel embarrassment, and his cheeks were already glowing with color. Head thrown back, he barely heard the door knob shake again—harder, this time—but he did hear the familiar scrapings of someone picking a lock.

“One last chance, Spike,” Sam barked dangerously, and the bomb tech rolled his eyes back as another press of the toy against his prostate made his legs shake and his cock ache more, “ _unlock the door!_ ”

“Kinda busy,” The brunette answered cheekily, and his ass left the bed with an arch of his back as the toy pulsed against his walls. Then, far too cocky for his own good, he moaned out Sam’s name with all the heat currently flooding under his skin, “ _Sam!_ ”

Apparently that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

The door swung open, revealing his three pissed off lovers, and within seconds a hand was replacing his own on the vibrator and twisted it onto a higher setting—and Spike swore, bucking and twisting.

Greg and Sam had moved onto either side of him, keeping him from squirming too much, and Ed was kneeling between his legs with the toy firmly in his grasp—pumping it fast as his thumb rested on the speed control and kept flicking it higher and higher.

“You should have opened the door,” Greg laughed, watching as the older sniper ruthlessly fucked their younger lover with the sleek toy—and Spike panted, gasped, shook and swore in the negotiator and blonde’s grips.

With every jab against his prostate, Spike felt his muscles tense and the heat in his lower stomach fire up hotter; and it exploded, whiting out the bomb tech’s vision as hands held him still and kept him from moving away from the powerful vibrations wrecking his body.

The orgasm tore through his body fast and hard, leaving him limp and oversensitive, as the toy slipped out and something larger filled its place—and even though his nerves protested, Spike grinned stupidly at the familiar feeling of Ed’s hips pressed tight to him. The grin didn’t last long.

His lips fell into an ‘o’ shape as the older sniper rocked inside him, fast and unsteady, and rough hands grabbed at him as they maneuvered him around. The bomb tech didn’t pay attention to that, though, as he looped his legs around the curve of Ed’s ass and arched up towards him—shaky and dazed. As soon as the bald man lost it, spilling inside the brunette with a curse spat out between his clenched teeth, Greg was pressing kisses to the side of Spike’s face as Sam’s hands soothed the soon-to-be bruises and asked if he was okay.

Spike nodded, pecking Greg back, and let Sam slip between his legs and wrapped his arms around the blonde’s shoulders—hiding his red face in the crook of the sniper’s neck. Ed had taken Sam’s spot, soothingly tracing nonsensical patterns on his ribs, as the blonde lost himself, too, within Spike—already on edge from watching the show.

Sam flopped off of the brunette with a dopy look on his face, catching his lover in a lip lock as he ran careful fingers through the soft brown hair.

“You still alright?” Greg asked, sitting up against the headboard and drawing Spike into his lap with gentle hands.

“Yeah,” Spike croaked, throat dry, and smiled at his older lover even though he was about ready to fall over with exhaustion and contentment. “I’m fine.”

With that said, Greg coaxed Spike up onto his knees—on either side of the negotiator’s legs—and the younger man slipped onto his lover with ease—falling forward into Greg’s warm grasp with a huff.

Strong arms held him to the brown-eyed man’s chest as Greg pressed up into the compressing heat—and a hand snaked between their bodies, taking Spike in hand as the older man kept the pace of his hand and thrusts constant.

They didn’t last long, and Spike pressed his face into Greg’s shoulder as another orgasm stunned his body—savoring in the tight, safe embrace as the negotiator clutched him close as they rode out their respective waves.

Spike whimpered at the sensation, the sensitivity, and the bliss.

“Shh,” Greg whispered in the bomb tech’s ear, cradling the sensitive body close as Ed slipped off the bed to go get a wet cloth, as the younger man rode out his aftershocks, “We’ve got you. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Spike slurred back, moving to kiss Sam on the lips before slumping back into Greg’s arms.

When the bald man came back and cleaned them all up, throwing the cloth onto the pile of clothes on the floor, he laid down and pulled Spike to his chest. Greg pressed himself against the brunette’s front, letting the man latch onto his larger frame with a chuckle, and Sam pressed himself against the negotiator’s back with a wet kiss against his neck and a mumbled goodnight.

“Still glad you didn’t unlock the door when we asked?” Ed grumbled into Spike’s shoulder, nipping the skin lightly and only got a light kick against his shin.

“Was so worth it,” Spike yawned back, hooking his leg around Greg’s thighs to pull him closer while throwing an arm over the negotiator to paw at Sam.

He got another nip, this time to the tip of his ear, in response.


End file.
